Right now I’m not sure if I do anymore, but I say it anyway because it’s all that I am. I can’t remember what you look like very clearly, or even recall the sound of your voice. I’m not the same person you left and you’re not the same person I love. I love you in a way that you’re my whole world yet I would rather not feel like that ever again.

But I know I love you because that’s the only reality I’ve known. I know I love you because I can’t love anything else. I know I love you because you’re my whole life, even if you’re not in it.

I know that I love you.

I find it comforting to hold on to this fading emotion because I know what it feels like and who isn’t a sucker for familiarity?

*picture credit I’m not really sure about, it’s just a picture I found in my archives. All credits go to the original photographer, not me.

Yeah, this isn’t about “Not to give up on hope” kind of post. I gave up on hope a year ago.

This is about smoking. Let me take you back 2 years. I absolutely loathed smokers. I thought it was a nasty habit with absolutely no plus sides. I didn’t understand why anyone would want to inhale tobacco smoke. I’ve had major fights about this with people. I’ve done lame shit lime make people swear on my head that they’d never smoke again. If that were the case I would’ve been beheaded a thousand times.

Now, I’m here typing this after smoking 5 of them myself. It started last new year. It was the first time I ever smoked and it was not pretty. My lungs burnt for 3 days. But then in May I smoked hash for the first time. It did absolutely nothing. It was a waste of money. But then I smoked another cigarette. That worked.

I don’t admit this fact that I smoke. In fact not even a handful of people know I do this. I’m kinda surprised my mom hasn’t found out yet. I don’t even chew a gum after I smoke.

I’ve tried quitting but I don’t really have any reason to do so. I don’t want to live long. I’m not worried about some kind of cancer, either. It doesn’t even smell after 10 minutes so there goes my worry about smelling bad. Well, I will admit it is a little expensive, because I don’t work anymore. But I manage that part.

I’ve been doing my best to lie as little as possible since almost two years now. But if asked about this, I’ll straight out deny it. I don’t care if they saw me firsthand smoking outside of The Nest (which is the only place where I smoke apart from my roof) I’ll deny it.

Most of all, I’m allowed to have bad habit. At least I’m not snorting cocaine before my morning coffee. I can have one guilty indulgence.

(This is long and boring and just urgh. So feel free to skip this one)

This past month has been so, so bad that I don’t even know how I’m even alive to write this. It’s not for the lack of trying, but we won’t go there today.

Stress and anxiety will kill you.

I’m not quoting some medical journal, these are my own observations. I had dealt with depression and mania in the past but this…this is different. I do everything right. I eat right, I do yoga, I dance, and my sleeping schedule is also decent. There was a time when I couldn’t fall asleep before 3:00 am, and now I can barely keep my eyes open till midnight. At any point of time, unless I have plans, I’m always asleep. I still make plans to go out in the hope that maybe my monotony is what ails me. I still do my make up and go around as if there is nothing that bothers me. I have only talked to two friends about it. I’m a little off topic. Yes, so the thing is that I know depression. I understand it. Being lethally depressed is kind of my comfort zone when compared to anxiety.

Anyway, the first thing to make me realize that there was something seriously wrong with me was when I went temporarily blind in my right eye after I woke up one morning. (I know, right?) I thought it was an allergic reaction because I tight line my upper-lash line or because I wore mascara a lot. I even had half a mind to sue Urban Decay. The doctor had a different opinion. After my vision came back in about 6 hours, the doctor told me to get some tests done to check my vitamin levels and told me to eat a lot of salads and vitamins and what not. I knew it then that this wasn’t caused by some vitamin deficiency but my mental health. I was one step closer to breaking down.

Then, about two weeks the app on my phone made me realize that my period hadn’t arrived for two months. The first thought in my head was, of course, “Holy shit, I’m pregnant.” But then logic kicked in that I wasn’t. I checked and also, I’d be gaining weight instead of losing it, if I was. It’s funny how we always jump to that conclusion. But anyway, this time I went to a gyno and that lady was so nice and concerned about me. She gave prescribed me some syrups and told me to do yoga. So I did exactly what she told me to do. It’s been more than a month but I’m yet to see any changes. “Aunt Flo” hasn’t visited either.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not ungrateful for the life that I have. I’m very, very grateful to be able to have a chance at higher education, food and shelter. I’m not saying that my life sucks. I’m saying I do. My mind has become so fragile that it’s not able to control my body. I’m losing touch of who I am. I cannot believe the person I’ve turned into. I wasn’t this brand-toting bitch who gave a crap about what the difference between blue toned red and orange toned red was. I had legit one pair of floaters and now look at me. I could be suicidal as all hell and yet my self esteem wouldn’t suffer. It’s super weird.

Again, my life isn’t all bad either. I go out a lot. I hang out at this place called “The Nest” almost every day. I read a lot over there. Whenever this certain friend of mine comes to town, those couple of days are always amazing. My anxiety levels drop drastically. I eat a lot more and I sleep better, too. I think he knows how much he helps because he’s started coming down more often than what I think is convenient. It’s not just him, my friends in general are lifesaving. When I was in my suicidal phase I talked to Ruchi and Bebo, friends of mine from school. If I’m alive today it’s mainly because of those two.

But still there’s this… Thing in my head. It’s just there and I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know what it is. I mean I have seen people die of stress. Hell, my baba died of stress, so I should know. Even if I don’t actively take actions to end my existence, it doesn’t matter. It’s happening on its own.

I’m sorry if it didn’t make a lot of sense. I don’t make sense, either.

A lot of things have happened over the last couple of days. I’ve given three college entrance tests and have no hope of getting into any one of them. You see, I appeared for CLAT (Common Law Aptitude Test), SET (Symbiosis Entrance Test), Christ University Entrance Exam, and my next one IIM-IPM is due on 15th May, and the University of my city, DAVV’s (Devi Ahilya Vishwa Vidhyalaya) CET (Common Entrance Test) is due on 29th.

I’ve been grinded by classes, then baked in this Malva Heat and roasted by the pressure at home. And trust me when I say this, these things aren’t even the reason why I’m mad.

I’m mad because everyone around me seems to think this is the end. That if they don’t get a good college, their life will collapse. They think their whole life depends on these exams. You can’t even explain to them why it’s not the end of the world. They charge on you and you can’t win against a class full of IIM aspirants who have appeared for IIT and didn’t get in. You don’t want to get into a fight with wannabe IITians. They play dirty, and you’ll lose.

What they don’t get is that if they get into a good college, their life will, no doubt, improve. But if they don’t get in, it’s not going to deteriorate. They will return to their normal selves and settle with what they get, just like they always have been.

17 or 18 is not the age that decide the next seventy years of your life. Right now, I can bet everything I have (which is next to nothing but please, concentrate on my feels here) that 90% of those kids have no idea what they want with life. Right now, IIM and Law Schools seems very exotic and the yearly packages are what most of them are after.

Fine, then let’s look at it form their perspective. I’m not so keen on getting into the corporate world for the following reasons.

Suppose, I get into IIM this year. I get out after five years with an MBA diploma, that gets me an average package of 1,900,000 INR per year. (This is the approximate value, last years’s highest package was as high as 4,500,000 INR). A leading corporate firm hires me, and the next thing I know, I’m working 80-100 hours in a week. I’ve sold my passion, the thing that helped me survive, in exchange for something as cheap as money. Eventually, after 10-20 years, I’ll get sick of it. I’ll have money, no doubt. And yes, It’s easier to cry in an Audi than to cry on a scooter. But I’ll be crying, irrespective of what I’m crying on. My dream to travel places will have brunt to ashes because I can’t get the time. I won’t have time for thinking, let alone writing.

How is it any different than selling your soul due to greed? But then again, this is what I think.

A lot of my classmates ask me why I’m not panicking that the exams are only a few days away. I don’t have an answer to that. I just don’t panic. I don’t think exams are something to panic about. Yes, I was worried about my Boards, but after the first exam, I knew where I stood and it really wasn’t any different than giving any other exam.

And moreover, I don’t have that urge to get into IIM or any other fancy college. Honestly, the only reason I’m giving these exams is to provide satisfaction to my parents that I did try. If I get in, well and good. If I don’t, then we’ll see.

That’s my answer to everything. We’ll see.

I don’t panic, it’s kind of my thing. Sometimes, I even laugh when I’m in crisis or standing in front of the Vice Principle’s cabin. Of course if I was told to do something on gunpoint, then yes, of course I’d panic. I’m not a freaking saint. I’ll panic the hell out of myself, when the situation is worth giving myself that mini hearth attack.

Right now, I just don’t think that giving myself a panic attack is worth it. I mean, yeah, getting into a good college certainly will change my life, and help me a lot, but I just don’t get the point. I don’t want to work in big fancy corporate companies.

Anyways, it’s okay not to get into big colleges. It’s okay to fail in those entrance tests. I mean, seriously, It’s so bloody okay.